“I have to go,” Lor says.
It’s only now that I notice she’s fully dressed. Black pants and a midnight blue crop top hug her subtle curves. Her long hair is up in two messy buns, and her fingers are lined with rings. She glances at me as she strides around the kitchen, putting things away and setting her keys on the edge of the counter.
“But the coffee isn’t done,” I say.
“That’s for you.”
I gape at her. She made me coffee? And…
“You’re… leaving me alone at your place?”
Lor shrugs, but doesn’t meet my eyes. I sense her tension, and decide not to push it. Her trust is a gift, and one I don’t take lightly.
I clear my throat. “Thanks.”
Lor nods on her way to the bathroom, and I’m left alone in the kitchen. Kahlo saunters back in and I smile, bending down to offer head and butt scritches as the coffee maker beeps.
Then I realize what that means, her leaving me here alone.She’s leaving.
I jump into action, snagging my shirt from the floor by the couch and slipping it on as I hurry back to her room where my boxers and pants are… somewhere. I run my hands through my hair as I search, finally finding them half under the foot of the bed on the side opposite me. I step into my underwear, then hop on one foot as I tug my pants on. The sink runs as Lor brushes her teeth in the bathroom.
I slip my phone in my pocket and search for my jacket next, nearly bumping into her in the hallway when she comes out the door.
“Ah, hey,” I say, breathless. “Can I borrow some mouth wash?”
“Sure.” Lor waves me into the bathroom and I take a gulp, swishing as I head back into the kitchen. I spit in the sink, then request a travel mug.
Lor pauses and eyes me, suspicious.
“I’ve got some things to do, so I’ll just head out with you,” I say.
Perhaps a misdirect, but it’s not a lie. I do have things to do. Namely, following Lor, making sure Lor’s safe, and in general, obsessing over Lor. I should probably call my therapist, too.
We’re on the road in no time, and I take a wrong turn to throw her off, grinning with mischief and devious intent. I saw her grab her backpack before she left, and I have a hunch she’s headed back to the same creepy warehouse I’ve followed her to before.
The urge to follow, to protect, toknow her, has taken priority, and I’m not fighting it anymore. I know I should let hershare her secrets in her own time, and while I’m happy to let her share whatever she wants with me, I’m also happy to find them out on my own. Especially now that I know the truth of her family.
Star-chasers.
Demons might have magic, but Lor ismagical.
I up my speed, weaving between traffic as I race against the clock to beat her there. I’m not going to lose her this time.
Hand over hand,I steadily climb the fire escape on the back side of the building Lor went into. I’m careful to step softly so my boots don’t thump on the metal ladder, and soon enough voices drift through the glass above me. I slow down and peek into the bottom corner of the window to see Lor in the middle of a concrete room facing three men. One looks to be the leader, standing between the other two and reaching to take the cloth bag from Lor, then passing it to one of the others, who snaps his fingers. A man in a lab coat sprints up to them and takes the bag, then disappears out of my line of sight.
I look back at the three men facing Lor, but can’t make much out. Their backs are to me, so I can’t see them clearly. I lean forward, straining to make out the words, when the leader raises his voice.
“You know this isn’t acceptable, Alorra,” he booms, and I frown at the condescending tone he uses, especially with her full name. “Do you need a reminder of what happens when people fail me?”
Lor shakes her head, her mouth pinched shut and eyes trained on the floor between them. The man waves a hand imperiously, and a few moments later more bodies appear. Twomassive men, muscles bulging, are hauling a third between them. He’s limp, feet dragging on the floor and head lolling to the side. The leader gestures at them, then clasps his hands behind his back and faces Lor again.
The goons drop the beaten man, the thump of his head hitting concrete reaches me all the way up here in my hiding spot. I wince, then freeze when my boot squeaks on the metal. I duck out of sight, holding my breath.
Voices continue to rumble inside, and there doesn’t seem to be any alarm or shouting, so I peek back up to see the two muscular goons have disappeared. Only the beaten—possibly dead—man and the first three remain.
Lor has her face turned away from the grisly scene.
I don’t blame her. Nausea rises, making my mouth water and my gut heave, but I’m determined to sit through this with her. She may not know it yet, but she’s not alone anymore.
